


Can't sleep love

by FujiRouge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amnesia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Friends, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up Together, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Tom Riddle, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24538999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FujiRouge/pseuds/FujiRouge
Summary: Harry suffers with nightmares, Tom helps him through with it.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 35
Kudos: 500





	Can't sleep love

**I wouldn't mind it all.**   
**You so know me.**   
**Pinch me gently**   
**I can hardly**   
**Breath.**

Tom was eight when Harry had a very horrible nightmare.

There was a storm coming down, lightning crackled outside the window in a flash of blue light, before thunder roared. It was almost 2 in the morning, Tom was wide awake in his bed, reading over History books. The radio broadcast already eluded to the possibilities of heavy rain so Tom wasn't surprised.

He ignored the shrieking storm from outside.

Soon, their nightlight suddenly went out.

 _Great_ , Tom thought grimly, the electricity was out.

The darkness was near impossible to discern anything from the book, the room was only lit by the moonlight that came from the room. He closed the cover and perched it to the side of his pillow.

He looked to the window, and within moments, another flash of blue light stroke before the sound of thunder.

He heard a whimper.

Tom turned to the bed beside him. Harry's back was faced towards Tom so he couldn't see his expression.

He heard it again.

Harry started squirming in his sleep. He was dreaming.

Tom knew of Harry's constant nightmares, even took notice of the large bags under his eyes and his sudden dozing off in the middle of the day. When he questioned about what his nightmares were about, he'd be answered by total silence and an avoidance of look. Tom never tried to question him further or force the truth out of him, he has a premonition if he did, the boy would just snap at him to shut up and Harry's silent treatment afterwards was a bother to handle.

It was indeed a touchy subject.

Tom walked over to Harry and carefully sat on the bed, his weight dipping to the mattress with a small creak. Harry was whispering now, nothing coherent came from his mouth. Just gibberish.

"...old..."

Old?

He leaned closer.

Nothing came out. Harry was now breathing, fast and narrowed.

Tom frowned.

Despite darkness mostly taking over his vision, he can tell that Harry was frowning in his sleep. The lights suddenly came back and Tom was about to go back to his bed till Harry started to tremble uncontrollably.

His body moved rapidly, gripping the sheets underneath tightly paled fists. His breaths grew faster and faster, tears falling from his eyes which slowly traced his face.

Tom gripped his shoulders, shaking him, "Wake up! Harry– Harry, wake up!"

Harry's eyes shot open with a gasp. He sat up to hold himself in a way to feel secure, "I– I was– R–ron, H–hermione. They're– the..." He trailed off.

Ron? Hermione? His family perhaps...? Harry was never vocal about his parents or himself in general. He'd been a total mystery since his first arrival to the orphanage. Tom always tried to harbour any information from him but Harry's constant mood swings made it difficult.

"What happened?" Tom murmured, voice soft.

"I... don't know."

"Ron and Hermione.. who are they exactly?"

"I don't–" Harry muttered something silently before he bowed his head down to his lap, "... don't know."

That's odd. Very odd. Harry was dreaming and weeping over people he doesn't know.

Tom was too caught up with his thoughts, that when he turned his attention back to Harry. His eyes were already wallowing in tears. "I've been so confused lately– its maddening." Harry held his face, crying. "I don't understand anything– I don't– can't understand–"

"What exactly can't you understand, Harry?" He questioned slowly.

Another silence. Not surprising.

Tom sighed, trying to keep his annoyance in check. He was about to leave Harry to himself, but the hand on his sleeve said otherwise.

"Can I...can I hug you?"

Now that was surprising. Harry was never one for physical contact, he'd tensed when Tom touches his shoulder. Still, he answered, "...sure."

Harry scrambled slowly towards Tom, almost confused as Tom was by the whole thing. Their legs touched when he sat closer, he pressed his face onto his chest, arms circling around his frame with a steady and reluctant grip.

Harry felt tensed and clearly awkward, which was amusing since he was the one who requested it first.

Tom propped a hand on Harry's back, rubbing small circular touches. He placed his chin on top of his head, ignoring the black hair that threatened his nose. They sat in each other's arms in silence, accompanied by the drumming of rain outside. Harry even adjusted his head to the side, his ear fully pressed just above Tom's heart, getting a clear sound of Tom's own heartbeat. He wondered if it calmed the smaller boy down.

"...it was just a dream, Harry."

"I know." He whispered.

"I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you."

"You won't?"

"Yes."

And for once, Tom told the truth.  
  


\--  
  


Tom was ten when Harry woke him up, his face terribly pale and sweaty.

He said he couldn't sleep, Tom decided to stay awake for him and with him. They laid on Tom's bed on their backs, faced up to the ceiling. His eyes trailed over every scratch of paint and crack visible on the ceiling.

"If a genie asked you for one wish, what would it be?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"I'd wish for more wishes."

Harry snorted, "Of course...but what if the genie said it was invalid? You can only have one wish."

"Immortality."

"Oh. I should've probably expected that."

Harry knew Tom's complete distaste of dying like a common person, is described as a common person and lived as a common person. It all sounded so plain. He had no interest nor intention of settling down. Time was his enemy. Death was his destination. Tom will find a way to battle both.

Obviously, Harry has to be there beside him. There was never only Tom, and that changed ever since the two boys met.

Now it was Harry and Tom, just like how the world revolved around the sun.

Harry hummed in consideration, "Well... If I had to choose one wish it'll be–"

"Immortality, of course." Tom cut him off.

"What?" Harry frowned at his interruption, turning to him, "What makes you think that?"

Tom returned his gaze, "If I choose immortality, then so should you. That way we can both live forever, in each other's company of course." Tom said, matter-of-factly.

His green eyes softened, before his gaze drifted back to the ceiling, "You wouldn't mind spending forever with me?" He asked.

"That's what I said," Tom rolled his eyes, not wanting to repeat himself.

"Forever is a long time."

"It is."

He narrowed his eyes, lips pursed, thinking as he spoke, "I think... I wouldn't mind spending forever with you too." 

Tom stared at Harry for a moment, then smiled.  
  


\--  
  


When Harry turned eleven, a man with a long beard and twinkling blue eyes that called himself Dumbledore came to the orphanage.

"You two are attending Hogwarts."

Harry's grip on his hand tightened, Tom can practically feel the excitement radiating from the other boy.

"A school for wizards."  
  


\---  
  


Harry was sorted into Gryffindor.

Tom didn't expect that. It wasn't supposed to turn out that way, and he knew Harry felt the same, judging by the uneasy and tensed look he had once he was pulled to the table of lions. He refused to spare a glance to Tom, his head bowed as he was guilty of a crime.

Harry never showed any signs of being brave. The boy was even emotional at times, but...

Harry was never afraid of him, not like the other children who did. He even called on Tom's lies, like the time where he killed Billy's rabbit, he confronted him about it. It was all there– Tom should've seen the signs.

When Dumbledore called his name. Tom's thoughts completely shut down, bringing him back to reality.

He walked towards the front, the hat placed on top of his head, in which covered his eyes.

_Lots and lots of ambition. A mind like yours would do well in Slytherin– hmm, yes, yes...you are very much fit in that house._

He tilted the hat a bit, his stare wandered to the table where the Slytherin students sat.

He had been waiting for this moment for months. To be sorted at the house of the ambitious, the cunning, the best house of the four – to be able to prove himself worthy and more powerful.

Harry.

His eyes travelled to the boy himself, who stared at Tom right back. He looked sorry, apologetic and knowing Harry who had a heart so soft– it was enough for Tom to place it in a platter and watch it splatter to bits and pieces. And someone as stupid, naive, loyal– _brave_ , as Harry. Tom knew Harry blames himself in some way.

His emerald eyes glowed, he looked sad.

Tom didn't like that.

 _"Put me in Gryffindor."_ He forced himself to think, ignoring how the words sounded wrong.

His decision was obvious.

"GRYFINDOR!" The hat yelled.

He'll always choose Harry.  
  


\---  
  


Harry hugged him once they were finally alone.

He buried himself to Tom's robs, whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry–"

Tom gripped his shoulders, pulling him away, "Shh... it's not your fault– don't give me that look, I know it's not." He said firmly, hoping his words would cut through the other boy's guilt.

He cradled his cheek, before softly brushing a tear from his face with a thumb. Harry leaned on his hand.

"You really don't mind you got sorted to Gryffindor?"

"I don't."

Tom was sure he meant it.

But it was easier said than done.

Whenever he turned to the mirror, seeing the color of red and gold cladded around his uniform, his mind wandered to the fact that he looked more right and fit in silver and green.

He didn't even like Gryffindors– they sounded too brash and reckless for his taste.

But he was a Gryffindor now, he reminded himself bitterly.

He hid this from Harry.

But Tom had a clue that some part of Harry knew.

One day, Harry even tried to converse Tom about how they can possibly do a resorting of houses for him but Tom refused, he wasn't going to back down by something he already decided a long time ago.

"I'm not gonna change houses, Harry." Tom strictly conceded, "Stop changing my mind, I doubt there's even such a thing."

"But we can still try! I know how much you want to go to Slytherin–"

"Harry. Just stop."

Tom's tone of voice was calm, but there was a fierce emotion in his eyes that made Harry closed his mouth.

"Look, I won't lie that I'm really annoyed by the change of plans. I didn't imagine that you'd be in Gryffindor– I was so sure that we could stay together but it didn't turned out easy. And that's not your fault, so stop blaming yourself."

He pressed a hand on Harry's shoulder before he could deny about anything, giving him a squeeze.

"While being in not Slytherin is wrong– not being with you is even worst." He concluded.

Harry didn't brought the topic again.  
  


\--  
  


Tom pulled the curtains open, Harry was still dressing, his torso exposed.

"Wait, I'm almost finished." Harry said, grabbing his clothes.

Tom already knew about the scars that littered on Harry from their time of being roommates, they already stripped in front of each other. Harry used to be embarrassed about it but he soon grown used to it. He asked Harry about it– how he got it.

The response he seldomly got was either a long stretch of silence or a soft 'I don't know'. Even the 'I must not tell lies' that etched on his hand, red and scarred– even Harry didn't knew anything about it. The lighting bolt scar on his forehead was foremost the one Tom was curious of, he always had some sort of pull towards it. A shudder ran through his spine whenever he rubbed his finger over it. Familiar. Warm.

Harry has amnesia, Tom was sure of it. He barely knew anything about himself, just his name; Harry Potter. Dumbledore said the Potters was apparently a known family in the wizarding world, not influencial but they are rich. There was a Charlus Potter in Hogwarts, he did have some similarities to Harry appearance-wise.

Tom will have to learn more about it later. Harry had already finished dressing.

They headed out for breakfast.

On there way out, Harry bumped into a Slytherin student– the way he posed himself in such a snobbish way and the undeniable aristocrat features, Tom could tell he was a pureblood, although it shouldn't be a surprise since Slytherins were mostly purebloods. If Tom was sorted into that house, it'll be hard to settle in, the students there weren't very forgiven for muggleborns.

But Tom would've made them appeal to him, one way or another, whether it'll take years of putting on a mask, he'd stomp right over them and they will grovel to his feet.

His grey eyes snapped at Harry, "Watch where you're going." He hissed in disgust. Right, Tom remembered that Slytherins and Gryffindors don't get exactly get along, an unsorted rivalry between the two houses.

Harry didn't say anything, only staring at the Slytherin with glassy eyes.

The pureblood held Harry's gaze in confusion, he turned to Tom. Tom made sure to keep his eye contact, never looking away. He felt satisfaction when the boy tore his gaze off with unease and left.

Tom turned to Harry, who was oddly silent, "Are you alright Harry?"

Harry wiped his tears, turning away from him, "I–I'm fine." He responded meekly.

Tom knew better than to believe him.

Orion Black was his name, Tom learned later on.  
  


\--  
  


Tom was thirteen when Harry and him sat near the Great lake.

It was a nice spot to finish your homework to pass the time, although it was a popular place in Hogwarts where students like to hang out too. Harry and Tom appreciated being alone together, people already knew they were close to the hip but they much prefer to spend their time just both of them. Although Harry did bring a plus-one sometimes, to Tom's dismay.

Today, there was no one and Tom was thankful for that.

Harry laid on the ground on his stomach, already bored from reading a Herbology book. "... You know, Cindy likes you."

"Who?" Tom didn't move his eyes from the pages.

"Cindy Houston, our classmate."

"What about?"

Tom can tell Harry just rolled his eyes.

"I know you already know what I mean.

He did. Cindy Houston. Tan skin. Light blond hair. A Gryffindor half-blood with green eyes– although a different shade from Harry's and definitely not as bright. Her extensive blushing and the need to hold Tom's shoulders in every chance she gets was already a dead giveaway. It was flattering since Tom was more familiar with the look of fear within his time of terrorizing the kids from the orphanage.

"She's nice–"

"I don't like her."

"You don't like anyone, Tom." Except him but Harry already knew that.

There was a moment of peace, "Avery is kind of handsome–"

"Excuse me?" That got Tom's attention, his narrowed eyes turned sharp. "Cassius Avery?"

"He's nice although a bit of a prat–"

"Have you forgotten he's a pureblood, his parents have probably planned to marry him off to another–"

"Jeez Tom–" Harry started laughing, "I was just teasing, you're acting like an overly protective parent."

Tom blinked, before his face curled into a frown, "... I'm your best friend."

"Yeah," Harry's laughter turned into small chuckles, placing his chin on his hand with soft eyes, he peered up at Tom, "You are." He conceded.

It was suffice to say, Tom made sure to glare holes in Avery's head secretly the next day in class. Something unfamiliar and horrible crawled onto his chest, as if there was a worm eating his heart out. Whatever he was feeling, he ignored it.

(It wasn't jealousy, he denied. He was just protective of Harry).

Unfortunately, it wasn't the end of that.

When Tom was fourteen.

A Gryffindor by the name of Septimus Weasley asked Harry out to Hogsmeade.

When Harry told him the news.

Tom was not happy.

"No." He firmly said.

Harry glared at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't think I needed your permission to go–"

"It's a no and that's it–"

"Why Tom? you're not my parent and you're definitely not the boss of me–"

"Do you like him?" Tom asked. Harry never really gave any indication that he liked Weasley romantically but for some reason, if Harry did like him and wants to go out with that red-headed bastard— Tom didn't imagine he'll be able to control himself.

"No." He replied. Tom withhold the urge to draw a breath of relief, "But it'll be unfair of me to simply reject him–"

"You're just giving him more hope, what if Weasley continued to pester you with more dates even if it didn't work out for you?" Tom would kill him if he did do that.

"I don't think he's the type to do that," Harry gave Tom a stubborn look, "I'm going, Tom."

"Fine. Do whatever you want." Tom snapped in a harsh tone, before storming out of the room.  
  


-  
  


Once Tom came back, Harry already left for his date.

Tom felt his hands twitched, his thoughts swirling with ideas of how to murder Weasley in many ways, and he'll make it slow and painful and people will never know he did it. His thoughts ran red. The damn burning in his chest wouldn't leave him alone.

He couldn't even finish his homework or do any extensive studying for his upcoming exams, not when the image of Weasley playfully running a hand on Harry's hair– Harry smiling, cheeks flushing– Harry's eyes crinkling as he laughed. Harry spending his time on someone who didn't even deserve it.

Harry was his.

Tom gripped the quill so tightly, it broke in half.

He decided to sleep early, maybe a shut-eye will calm his nerves and the impulse to kill someone, preferably someone with abnormally red hair.

But he seriously doubted that. He really did.  
  


\--  
  


Tom felt the mattress dip down, someone was climbing into his bed.

It was Harry, Tom knew.

Harry positioned himself on the bed before draping an arm around his waist, his hair tickling the nape of his neck and Tom tried his best not to shudder when warm breath swept against his skin. "Are you awake?" Harry whispered.

Tom didn't open his eyes, nor replied.

Harry leaned over Tom, his face hovering inches away from his cheek. "Tom?" He repeated.

Harry then intentionally blew a gush of air onto Tom's ear, this time he shuddered. He clicked his tongue in frustration when the other boy chuckled silently. There was a pregnant pause, before Tom asked, "How was your date?" His voice cold and stiff, not even bothered to mask it.

"You're still angry about that? Well to answer your question– It went okay. I'm not in love with him or anything if that's what you're afraid." Harry stopped, in thought, "To be honest, I only said yes was because..."

"...because?"

"He looked really familiar, like meeting an old friend. It's odd, since I never met him before."

Tom didn't say anything, only considering what Harry said.

"Tom." Harry shook him, "Psst– Tom."

"What?" He snapped, finally facing Harry with an annoyed scowl.

"You can't always protect me," Harry rested his head to a pillow, "I can make decisions on my own. I know you're just worried about me but I can handle myself, it was just a date– it's not like I was getting married to the guy."

Harry waited for Tom's reply, but the taller boy only remained silence.

"Why were you so upset? Don't even try to deny it. I've rarely see you get so worked up before."

Tom thought for his answer hard, for at least three minutes but beneath heavy atmosphere, it felt too long. Harry just stared at him patiently for his explanation, not even gesturing him to continue, "I– I was just...worried." He admitted through gritted teeth. He was never the type to speak his feeling easily.

"Of me?"

"Of you finding someone else."

They stared at each other.

"It's always gonna be you." Harry whispered. "You're always gonna be important to me."

Harry tucked a long curl of hair behind his ears.

Tom closed his eyes, letting the warm hand play with his hair. Harry's words replayed over and over in his head, they tuned into his head, like a melody of some sort. He held onto those words until he fell asleep.

 _It's al_ ways _you_ _too_.  
  


\--  
  


Tom had noticed a lot of things.

Tom sometimes questioned why he caught himself taking notice of all this, they were meaningless observations– but his eyes didn't want to stop.

He noticed how Harry would rub his nose whenever he couldn't get the question from his homework, he'd bite his lips too until dry skin tore off. He noticed how Harry's eyes seemed a lot brighter when they were held under the moonlight, Tom wondered if his eyes were actually jewels stuck inside his sockets, no one should shine that bright. He noticed how fidgety Harry was with his hands whenever he felt too uncomfortable, he didn't even noticed he was doing it half of the time— if he couldn't handle the situation anymore, he'd sometimes move beside Tom.

They were all useless things Tom took notice of, but he couldn't let them go.

It was snowing now in Hogwarts.

"Let's go outside, Tom." Harry said, peering over the window before he grinned, "Fancy a little snowball fight?"

Tom raised a brow, unimpressed, "We're not children anymore, Harry."

"Scared of losing?"

"That's not gonna work on me–"

"Don't tell me you're a–" He produced abnoxious noises. Tom glared at his antics. "– a chicken."

"You're being awfully childish right now–"

Harry continued with the noises.

"Fine then, don't regret it once I beat you." He poked his forehead with mocking intent.

Harry smirked, "You're so on."

Later, Tom and Harry fought outside. Some Gryffindors even joined in. After getting bored of fighting each other, the two boys decided to team up and started to throw the others with snow. They even built a fortress. Tom was mostly the one making plans while Harry obeyed him without any hesitation and succeeding.

"Got cha'!" Harry hollered in victory once he struck someone by the head.

They walked back inside once Tom noticed how hard it was currently snowing.

"I totally won back there." Harry declared.

"A first place at failing, I'm afraid."

"Hey! I struck you plenty of times!"

"You also missed me the same amount."

"You should've seen your face!" He laughed, "You looked like a cat that was thrown into water, you turned to me offended that I threw you a snowball in the middle of a snowball fight."

Tom rolled his eyes, "You sure did have fun."

"Hey." Harry lightly bumped his shoulder, "I know you had fun too."

Snowflakes that fell from the sky piled over Harry's head and clothes, even getting into his eyelashes and nose but they did nothing but purely decorate his face more. His smile was wide and pupils blown, probably still high from adrenaline in their earlier fight. Despite being awfully snowy, there was still sunshine from the sky and it draped over Harry beautifully like a halo.

He was cold, a bit sore and wet all at the same time, but that was then, where Tom knew he was in love with Harry Potter.

Tom was fifteen when he found out.  
  


\--  
  


Harry hasn't been sleeping well lately.

He tried to hide it from Tom, but he knew better.

Harry's nightmares were coming back.

He started to fall asleep more often in class– he even got detention once and a decrease of house points. Tom has to kick Harry awake most of the times. His hair was wilder than ever and the bags under his eyes were getting larger, if it got any worst, Tom was afraid his face would turn into a raccoon. His temper was short too, he got angry easily, even snapping on Cindy when she accidentally bumped into him. Harry was usually a patient person so he spook Cindy so much– she started to walk on eggshells around him.

Tom was concerned.

When Harry started to sleep on Tom's bed back when they were kids, he slowly stopped having nightmares. They didn't slept on the same bed ever since they arrived on Hogwarts.

Tom offered Harry to sleep with him. Harry was stubborn, he kept refusing.

Sometimes, he would feel Harry's eyes watching over him intensely, like he was a puzzle piece in need of putting together. Whenever he asked what's wrong, Harry will respond with something witty or some childish joke and Tom would just roll his eyes at his blatant display of avoiding the subject.

No doubt, Harry was hiding something.  
  
  


\--  
  
  


"Harry, psst–" Tom smacked the desk, Harry's eyes shot open.

"Wah–?" Harry stammered before rubbing his eyes, "Right, I'm awake, I'm awake."

Tom tilted his head to the side so he can meet Harry's eyes, "Are you really though?" He asked, "I've been talking for at least five minutes now– I doubt you've regurgitated any knowledge inside that thick skull of yours."

Harry stared at him, Tom looked at him strange.

"Harry?" He leaned closer, "Are you listening?'

Harry blinked, finally realizing he was staring then turned away with a flush of his cheeks.

Well– that was new.

Harry blushed further when Tom smirked playfully.

"Shut up."

"What?" Tom blinked at him innocently.

"I was just spacing out."

"Indeed, you are."

"You're such a cocky shit– you're face is just stupid." Harry grumbled, leaning his nose to a book in hopes to hide his face better. Tom snorted, not naive to Harry's habit of insulting people whenever he gets particularly embarrassed.

Tom knew he was handsome– the amount of gifts and confessions he gets every Valentine's day already spoke to itself. Even Harry wasn't immune to a pretty face.

He eyed Harry's growing eye bags and awfully pale face.

"Your nightmares."

His shoulders flinched, clearly not expecting the question.

"How bad are they?"

Harry scratched his head, then answered softly, "Really bad."

"Do they involve around Ron and Hermione?" They were the names Harry used to mumble in his sleep a lot. The same goes for the name Sirius.

There was a pregnant pause.

The nightmares were a subject they barely touched upon and Tom never brought it up again after they finally stopped, he also knew that Harry was still sensitive about it but Tom had been stalling for too long. He needed to address the problem. "Harry, I know that you don't like talking about it but I need to know what your dreams are about, why they're hurting you. It's been years now, don't you trust me?" He said.

"I do trust you, Tom. A lot and I think...you deserve to know."

Tom scooted a bit, interested.

"Sometimes...well most of the time actually it changes– I dream of getting locked in a cupboard by really awful people, I dream of a man with grey eyes getting struck by a green curse, I dream of a...creature with smoldering red eyes. And also, the world from my dreams was slightly different from here."

"How different?"

"I don't know...the surroundings? It definitely wasn't the same as I've seen around here, they all seem kind of advanced."

From the way Harry explained it, they sounded more like memories than wild dreams and if it was, then Tom's suspicion about amnesia was right.

Harry stopped, eyes narrowed with a look of deep thought and consideration.

"I used to dream of you too."

Him?

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Can I ask what they're about?"

"You killed me."

They both gazed.

Tom frowned, "That's stupid, I would never hurt you."

"I know– it's just strange to me. I know it wasn't you, it didn't feel like it. it's more like I'm dreaming of an entirely different person."

"You said you used to. What changed?"

"Back when I was a kid, that's what I dreamed of. Now it's different... I have dreams of you crying alone. I was there but you couldn't see me, or– or touch me and It's odd– because I've never seen you cry before–" His hands and voice began to quiver, "B–but you were just so sad and I couldn't reach you– I couldn't–"

"Harry."

He stopped, tears already welled up in his eyes.

Tom reached his hand.

"I'm right here."

"It's stupid, I know." Harry wiped his face with his sleeve, taking Tom's hand. "But I just can't help it."

"It's just a dream, Harr–"

"I KNOW!" Harry's increased volume made Tom flinch, "Merlin, I know." He whispered.

Tom remained silence, only staring at the books piled on the desk as he waited for Harry to compose himself.

A few sniffles and sobs later, Harry asked, "Can I hug you?"

"You don't have to ask for it. Come here." They adjusted their position on the bed after they closed the curtains around them, he softly caressed the black hair under his chin, taking in Harry's steady breathing. "It was just a dream, Harry." Tom said again, this time more softer.

"I'm scared of losing you." Harry's voice cracked.

Tom smiled at his words, "I'll never leave you, I promise."

"Pinky swear?"

Tom rolled his eyes, "Yes–" he sighed in defeat, "Pinky swear."

In his arms, he felt Harry vibrate from his chuckles.

"Sleep with me, tonight?"

Harry was still before he nodded.

"Okay."  
  
  


\--  
  
  


"Psst, Tom. I'm gonna go grab something, please don't start anything with..." Harry gestured to Weasley who sat next to Tom, the boy was too busy reading to notice anything. "Play nice while I'm out."

"I'm not a child in need of supervision." Tom glowered, Harry rolled his eyes.

"But you sure do act like one, " Then he left.

After Weasley asked Harry out, the two agreed on being friends and stayed close– and even then, Tom still couldn't stand the sight of the Gryffindor. If it weren't for Harry, who sensed his displeasure and watched him like a hawk, Tom would've killed him for sure, perhaps taking his head as a trophy.

Tom hated playing a good person.

"Where's Harry?" He asked, noticing the empty seat.

"Out." Tom said, short and harsh.

Weasley winced at his tone and narrowed eyes, "Look, mate, I don't understand why you have a problem with me–"

The fact that you exist is already a problem, Tom didn't say.

"But Harry's a good friend of mine, so it's best we get along." He offered him a smile, Tom didn't return the mirth. "I don't wanna be enemies with Harry's boyfriend–"

Boyfriend?

Tom blinked, "You think me and Harry are together?"

Weasley looked at him, confused, "Well, aren't you? Both of of you are closer than most friends should, I could've sworn–"

"It's not any of your business." Tom cut him off, before returning to his studies. The conversation ended in an instance and Weasley went quiet.

Harry came back with a stack of books.

He raised a brow, eyes narrowing in suspicion at Tom's face, "Why are you smiling and being awfully jolly? Did something happened while I was away?"

"Why must you question my good mood?"

"Because nothing good ever comes when you're happy."  
  
  


\---  
  


Summer break started. Tom worked his way out to be a teacher's pet, making sure to charm every professor he can get with his quick wit and intelligence. Everyone thought of him as an excellent student– except Dumbledore, not that Tom even cared about his opinion as well as Harry, who sometimes teased him for being a nerd, he requested the school to be able to stay in the summer break, it was agreed.

Harry was happy about with the news.

They hang out beside the Great Lake– sometimes even camping at the Astronomy room, it was a remarkable spot for stargazing.

They set their blankets and pillows on the floor and lied down together, Tom didn't have much interest with the sky but Harry always had a deep-rooted love for it.

"Why do you like the stars so much?" Tom asked.

"Hmm... It's the same reason why I like you."

"And that is....?"

"Nothing. I don't need a reason to like you, the same way I don't need a reason to like the stars." Harry explained, "You should do that sometimes."

"Do what?"

"Be able to do something you like because you simply like it but not gaining anything from it."

"I like reading."

"I doubt anyone would enjoy reading books about how to rule the world."

"If such books existed, I'd already be in a throne right now."

"Of course," Harry snorted, "I bet you get off by people calling you your highness."

"Like a king? And if that's the case, that'll make you my queen then?"

Tom thoroughly enjoyed how the blue moonlight encompassed Harry's flushing face, he rolled his eyes with a scoff, "Ha-ha you're very funny, Tom." He grumbled.

"I know I'm hilarious but I wasn't joking."

"... you're not?" Harry stared at him, "Wh–what do you mean?"

"What I meant was–" Tom scooted closer to Harry's dazed face with a grin, "it's late, and growing boys like you should sleep."

Harry frowned, "I've already grown."

"You're still a foot shorter than me–"

"I'm not short, it's called average!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

There was a silence. Tom already shut his eyes, waiting for sleep to engulf him entirely.

"Hey, Tom?"

He replied with a hum.

A pair of lips softly pressed his cheek, it barely lasted than just mere seconds but it was enough for Tom's steady heartbeat to rise. His hazel eyes shot opened in astonishment, he turned to the other boy who purposely turned around but Tom could see how red Harry's ears were.

"Goodnight."

Tom didn't fight back the smile.

"Goodnight."

The next day, Harry asked Tom to go to Hogsmeade with him.

Tom smirked.

Harry stammered about how he was simply bored and nothing to do with a date. Tom just agreed to whatever he said.

They went to several places– mostly sweet shops, Harry knew of Tom's large sweet tooth, they ate ice cream and bought a few stuff along the way.

"Cindy's birthday is coming over, she invited me over to her party– she doesn't mind if you come over though," Tom merely nodded at what Harry said, they entered a gift shop and Harry looked around the gifts displayed on the shelves, "What do you think I should get her?" He asked.

"Something." Tom said, his attention was caught by an ugly doll who stared at him with beady eyes.

"Very helpful."

"Indeed I am."

They headed outside and continued walking.

Minutes later, Harry asked, "Any idea where we headed?"

"I don't know."

"Me neither."

They both laughed.

"Guess we can just take a walk?"

"Well, that's what we've been doing for more than two hours."

"Not a very exciting date, is it?"

"Finally admitting it, huh? What happened to–" Tom changed his tone into an impersonation of Harry's, "It's not a date– who would even want be with a cocky son of a bitch like you?"

Harry blushed, "My voice does not sound that high."

"Avoiding the subject?"

"I'm not, it's just hard! Fine– I–I do."

"Do what?"

"For Merlin's sake!" Harry glowered at Tom, "I bet you're enjoying this a lot?"

He did, but Tom only blinked at him innocently, "Enjoying what?"

"You're insufferable."

"That's not a confession, Harry."

"Give me a second!"

They stopped walking. Tom watched Harry expectingly.

"I do li–like you...a lot." Harry muttered the last part, thrill and warmness bursted through his stomach and Tom fought back the urge to simply just kiss Harry right there in the street, "Asshole." He quickly added.

Tom snorted, "You certainly have a way with words, If you can't tell I'm swooning so hard right now."

"I know, I make the ladies faint."

"Thank Merlin, I'm not a lady or else I would've rendered myself unconscious."

Neither one of them said anything.

"Do you also...?"

"Also what, Harry?"

"...like me?"

Tom stared at Harry for a long while, taking in the pretty image of Harry's reddening face before he reached over his hand and letting their fingers intertwined.

"Is this an enough answer for you?"

Harry's smile was blinding.

They held hands through most of the walk. No one said a word for a while and Tom was fine with that, he could also tell that Harry was embarrassed for confessing his feelings in the middle of the street– judging by his lips pressed together and face still slightly pink.

While they headed back to Hogwarts, hands still connected, Tom asked, "When did you started liking me?"

Harry clicked his tongue, thinking, "Well... I don't know? We've been together for most of my life, it's kind of hard to pinpoint where exactly my feelings started to change– I guess it just came to me one day."

Harry started to swing around their hands more, Tom rolled his eyes fondly.

"Does that mean we're together?" Tom asked, ignoring the hope that tingled in his stomach.

Harry blinked before giggling, he squeezed his hand, "Well duh."

Tom can't wait to rub it around Weasley's face.  
  
  


\----  
  
  


"Soo...since we're a couple now– should we do pet names?"

"Hmm... I don't mind, any ideas so far?"

"Sugarplum?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Honey?"

"We're not a married couple, Harry."

"My little darling boo-boo?"

"Now you're just trying to be funny."

"How about...love?"

"... it's definitely an improvement from your last suggestion–"

"I take it, you like it?"

"I admit it's very...quaint."

"Yeah, I like it too...did you know some blokes get off by being called daddy–"

"Love, do shut up."  
  
  


\--  
  
  


Nothing changed much since the development of his and Harry's relationship.

Harry and Tom still bickered like usual, although there were more flirting and some light touches.

Tom noticed how Harry loves to play with his hair, how he twirled a strand of wavy locks. Sometimes he'd even reach over Tom and do it without any give thought.

They never really done anything sexual, not even a single kiss on the lips– Harry was too shy to initiate and Tom didn't want to push the boy too much although it didn't really bother Tom of the lack of physicality, he was more than content with the occasional pecks on the cheeks and the handholding– Harry also felt the same. Tom was already satisfied with the fact that he has Harry all to his now.

This afternoon, Harry was busy writing on a piece of parchment, he asked, "Who are you writing to?"

"Septimus– and don't give me that look, I don't understand why you dislike him so much."

"I don't dislike him." Tom denied, he just had a mild desire to kill him– emphasis on the mild. His strong bloodlust for the boy slowly decreased after years of being forced to spend time with him. Weasley was tolerable, albeit a bit boring. He wondered why Harry likes to spend time with him, "He's...fine."

The deadpanned look from Harry was an immediate indication he didn't believe him, "Right. Anyway, I'm telling him about us." He said, dipping his quill in the jar of ink. "And don't look too pleased. I bet you were just dying to tell him yourself."

"I don't–"

"Never took you for the jealous type, Tom." Harry set down his quill for a while to give Tom a smug look. "Afraid someone might take me away?"

"It's not jealousy, I just like reminding people that you're mine."

"Yours, huh?" Harry grinned. "And you're mine?"

Tom grinned back, "Of course."  
  
  


\---  
  
  


Something caressed his hair, soft and comforting. Tom slowly woke up, opening his eyes to find Harry staring at him. There was no sunlight peaking from the window so Tom guessed it was still very late.

Harry, noticing Tom has awaken, quickly retracted his hand, "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Tom blinked the sleepiness away, he brushed the hair out of his face before sitting up beside Harry. He leaned against the headboard of the bed, grabbing Harry's hand and letting their fingers dangle together.

He didn't have to observe Harry's face to know he had a nightmare again.

"Bad dream?"

"Bad dream." Harry leaned onto Tom, jet black hair brushing his face. "It wasn't bad or intense as the others but it was different."

"Different?"

"It felt different, I wasn't afraid– not like the usual ones where I scream myself to wake.'

"Tell me more about it."

"There was a faceless figure that stood in front of me, he was reaching his hand out."

That was definitely different... Harry usually had dreams of dying or people he never knew dying.

"Faceless figure?"

"I couldn't see his face–it was obscured. I wasn't scared though, I felt calm."

"Calm?"

"Like I was... meeting an old friend."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"No...but it felt like he was warning me of something."

They remained quiet after that.

Ever since the night they talked about Harry's strange dream.

Harry had been very touchy of Tom, he'd cuddle him from behind whenever Tom does his homework, pecked him a kiss on the cheek every time he went out to do some errands and cuddled him tightly once they head to bed.

Tom guessed it served as a form of comfort for Harry, like he was reminding himself Tom was there.

He let Harry indulge and didn't mind the change, in fact, he liked how Harry was showing his affections. Tom always responded back to his soft touches.

It was nice.

\--  
  


Harry kissed Tom for the first time, inside the Astronomy room as the moon twinkled on them.

It was awkward at first, Harry sort of freezed in shock in the middle of the kiss but he slowly relaxed once Tom responded back. Their mouths move together, slow and sweet. It wasn't a groundbreaking moment but it was more than Tom could've imagined.

He snaked an arm around Harry, pulling him closer. Harry let out a pleased hum and slowly climbed on Tom's lap, putting both hands around his neck as they continued to make out. There was a hand tugging his hair lightly, Tom felt a spark of pleasure and kissed him harder.

He slowly pushed Harry on the blankets set on the floor, his body lied on top of Harry. Harry opened his mouth slightly and Tom took the chance to stick his tongue in. Harry gasped at the sudden feeling of a wet muscle probing his mouth that he quickly broke the kiss, "I'm sorry that took me by surprise." He said, not looking at Tom directly in the eye.

"We don't have to do anything."

"You don't mind? I've never been with anyone before–"

"Of course you don't, I made sure of that."

Harry slapped Tom's shoulder gently, throwing him a scolding look, "That's not what I mean, I meant that if you're alright taking things slow." He said.

"Like I said, we don't have to do anything you're not sure of." With such tenderness, Tom swept back Harry's fringe to rub the lightning bolt scar, he felt him shudder underneath his touch. "You don't remember getting this?"

"I don't."

"It doesn't feel like a normal scar."

"Like I said, I don't know– God, that's basically my catchphrase, isn't it?"

"We should find you a mind healer. You barely remember anything about yourself– do you think someone might've obliviate you when you were younger?"

"Perhaps? There is a chance."

"And those nightmares– I don't think it's very healthy."

"It isn't." Harry sighed, "Yeah, you're right."

"I'm always right."

"You don't have to be a smug bastard about it."

"That's just part of my charm."

"What charm? I don't see it.'

"Well you like me, that alone is proof of how charming I can be–"

"Or I just have very low standards–"

"Hey–"

"I'm joking," Harry laughed at Tom's offended face, "You and your sensitive ego.'

Tom grumbled, rolling off of Harry to lay down beside him.

"Hey, Tom?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

His heart increased in rate and a pit of warmness stirred inside his guts, he closed his eyes, barely managing to keep the smile from coming out.

Harry misunderstood Tom's stunned silence as bad and quickly said, "You don't have to say it back! I just wanted to tell you that I–"

"I love you, too."

The huge blush from Harry was a perfect way to end the day.  
  


\--  
  


Tom was gone the moment he scrambled to the bed with Harry.

He practiced his magic too much, he started to feel drained. It was a wonder on it's own why he hasn't fallen asleep yet, but the stroking of his hair relaxed him so much, he started to succumbed to sleep.

He hummed with displeasure when Harry retracted his hand, Harry heard this and chuckled, curling his hand back to his scalp and resumed stroking. Tom got used to it, he even started to love it. He was reminded of a mother's tender touches to her child– a part of his childhood he never received.

The last thing Tom felt was a warm kiss on his forehead before sleep finally took him.

"Sleep well, love."  
  


\---  
  
  


Harry was gone the moment Tom was awoken by the shredding light of the sun.

He frowned in suspicion, he was usually the one who woke up first and Harry always slept in late. He constantly had to wake the teenager out of the bed by force.

But not only that, he wasn't anywhere near the room. Tom checked the time, it was around 8:30 AM. Perhaps he went to a store?

Tom went over to brush his teeth.

A few hours later, Harry was still nowhere to be seen. Now Tom knew something felt odd.

Harry always told Tom where he was headed before he went off, but now, he simply vanished without any word– not even a note left.

Tom scattered every nook and cranny in Hogwarts, he checked the places where he and Harry always hang out to. Asked every professor present in the castle. Even owling Weasley and Cindy, in case Harry for some bizarre reason went to their house.

A day later, he got Weasley's reply

He crushed the letter with a scoff once he finished reading.

Where the hell did Harry went?  
  


\---  
  


Two weeks had passed.

Tom was starting to go insane– he even contacted the headmaster Dippet regarding Harry's sudden disappearance. Harry didn't show any signs of wanting to leave and if he did leave, where could he even go? He didn't have any money nor brought any luggage– except his wand. Tom turned the whole room around to find that blasted thing to no avail, so he must have brought it with him.

Harry couldn't have just left like that– and for what reason anyway? Tom considered the possibility of kidnapping but they were in Hogwarts, one of the safest places in the wizarding world. So Harry couldn't have just been taken unless, maybe he went out of the castle? But why?

Tom glared at the empty bed, his mind began to numb from overthinking.

When Tom finds Harry, he'll make sure the boy would never leave his side again.  
  


\---  
  


A month went by.

Tom couldn't sleep and when he tried to, he would be reminded of Harry's lacking presence. He spent most of his sleepless nights doing summer homework as slowly as possible, he even went to burrowed a whole load of books and kept reading and reading and reading. In hopes that it will fill the void in his life.

He went to the Headmaster's office everyday, checking in if they found anything or any trail of where Harry could've gone to.

Although Tom ignored the part of him that whispered– what if they found a corpse instead? He didn't want to marvel at the thought, he was already having trouble with sleeping, he didn't want to give himself more reasons to.

It always ended with a pat on the back and comforting words that didn't soothe his worries at all, "We'll find him, Mr. Riddle–"

Tom's anger flared, he smacked Dippet's hand away with burning eyes, "You're all certainly doing a wonderful job at it!" He snapped.

Dipper didn't look angry, simply stared at Tom with pity. Tom hated that look. He hated hated hated it.

"You keep saying they'll find him! You keep saying the aurors are doin' their jobs as best they can but it's already been weeks, and there is still no sign of Harry–"

His magic began to warp around the room, Dippet sensed it and tried to calm Tom down with his own magic but he ignored it.

"Where the hell is he!?" The most fragile objects placed inside the office burst into a rain of broken shards because they couldn't contain the intensity of Tom's magic which spiralled into a hurricane.

Dippet quickly shut off Tom's magic.

He was then sent back to his room.

He received another letter from Weasley, asking about Harry. The same goes to the letter sent by Cindy.

Tom burned the parchments with a single touch of his hand.  
  


-  
  
  


Seventh year started, a new year has appeared.

Tom went to class as usual. He ignored the annoying students that whisper behind his back and gave him pitiful looks. Some students– not just Gryffindors, but Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and even a few Slytherins went to give their condolences and an occasional pat on the back. He gave them all a small smile to say his thanks.

They gave their condolences like Harry was dead. Tom refused to believe it, even if months had passed and there was still no sign of him.

Disappeared like he didn't even existed.

His teachers also did the same, saying how sad they were for what happened– and Tom felt a little bit of himself die every time he has to stretch his lips in a way he hoped to have some semblance of a smile.

His mood was snappish and imploding– his roommates barely talked to him, sensing the dangerous magic that masked around Tom. They were as silent as bats, even holding in a cough if Tom was present in the room.

He ignored Weasley's attempt to talk to him. Tom didn't trust himself not to kill the boy right on spot. Cindy also tried to talk to Tom, but he glared at the girl so hard, she didn't try a second time– Tom wondered how she was sorted into Gryffindor when she got scared so easily.

Tom had to study for his NEWTS and a new found task at hand– finding the Chamber of Secrets, a place he learned that could only be opened by the heir of Slytherin.

He buried himself with books. Maybe he could also bury his feelings with it.  
  
  


\---  
  
  


Tom had dreams.

Most of them were about Harry. Some he could tell was a memory, and the others were fantasies– Harry laughing as he ate ice cream under a sunny day, his smile bared all his teeth and he was so beautiful and bright and so much more, Tom wished so hard he could lean over and kiss the cream out of Harry's lips but alas, everything started to blur out.

He woke up and once again, was greeted by the ceiling.

He gripped the cold spot beside him. The emptiness seemed to grow larger inside in each passing day.

Tom now understood how Harry felt about his nightmares.  
  
  


\--  
  
  


No matter how much Tom tossed and turned, he just couldn't sleep. At his bad nights, he'd just stare at dead air in the same spot as he waited for the morning to rise. He used a glamour charm to mask the dark spots under his eyes.

Unfortunately, this was one of those nights.

Tom got sick of staring at the curtains that he decided to go out and explore the castle. He grabbed his robs, in case the wind was chilly and his wand.

He walked over the halls, in constant alert for any coming noises or people walking. There was one thing good about being in Gryffindor– since the Gryffindor dorm is up at a tower, Tom had a great view of the sky.

Harry used to believe in the stars when they were children. He probably still does.

If he was still alive, he ignored the whisper in his head.

"Why do keep staring at the sky?"

_"I'm looking for something!"_

_"Looking for what?"_

_"Shooting stars! I'm looking for them."_

_"You actually believe in that myth? Wishing from a star doesn't grant you wishes, only an idiot will try that."_

_"So what if it doesn't? It's still worth it to try– hey look, a star! Quick Tom, make a wish–"_

"Riddle?"

Weasley.

Tom blinked away any lingering memories then stared forward to Weasley, the Head Boy chosen for Gryffindor. "What are you doing here?" He said, stepping closer, he glanced at the shadows under Tom's eyes and put two on two, "Oh. Couldn't sleep?" He said.

Tom didn't say reply, his hand clenching his wand. Weasley was the last person he wanted to see.

"You're not supposed to be wandering around in such a later hour, Riddle." Weasley said.

"My apologies, Weasley. I decided for a small walk to ease my head, I haven't been sleeping fine." He flashed him a pseudo smile, "It's not a good excuse but it is the truth."

Weasley nodded, "I understand, after with Harry–" Tom's lips slightly twitched by the spoken name, "it must be difficult for you. I'll let this one slide, Riddle but don't think I'll forgive you for next one."

There wouldn't be a next time, Tom thought darkly and imagined him bathed in red. He simply nodded, about to leave.

"Tom."

That was the first time Weasley said his first name.

"I know you miss him." He observed Tom sharply, almost waiting for him to deny his claim, "And that's alright, because I miss him too and you don't have to hide it–"

Tom chuckled without a hint of humor, "Are you seriously giving me the feelings talk? Look, whatever is if you're trying to say– stop it because I don't care."

Weasley didn't say anything, only gazing at him with pity. Pity, the same expression as Dippet. Tom wanted to poke both their eyes out for even daring to gaze at him with such a disgusting emotion.

Suddenly, the other boy drifted his gaze up, "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" He said.

Tom slowly turned to the sky and silently agreed. The stars were exceptionally bright tonight, not too many clouds to cover their beauty.

"There's a muggle saying– of how wishing upon a shooting star grants one wishes." Weasley said.

Tom closed his eyes.

_"Why are you making me choose a wish? Shouldn't you be the one making it? You're the one who believes on such an obscured thing "_

_"But Tom, just make one, please!"_

_"Alright, alright, stop coddling me. I wish–"_

_"Shh, you mustn't say it. It's supposed to be a secret."_

He opened them again.

"It's just a story." He sneered.

Then left.  
  
  


..  
  
  
  


"Tom."

A soft voice echoed.

"Tom."

Harry– it was Harry voice.

He looked down.

A body was laid on the floor, blood flowing from his mouth and the life from his eyes was gone.

Gone. Gone– no, no, no, he couldn't be gone.

Tom kneeled down to reach Harry but he quickly disappeared into thin air, leaving his hand cold and empty.

He woke up, and immediately sat up. The pounding of his heart boomed his ears, it was the only thing he could hear.

His face was dripping from sweat, Tom quickly opened the curtains to find the bed was still empty. He placed a hand on the sheets of the mattress, missing the person who used to slept there.

Empty.

God, he missed Harry so much, Tom could literally choke. He missed his hands stroking his hair– his lips pressing his cheek– the way his eyes shone more when he laughed, they were all memories he tried so hard not to reminisce but they replayed over his head– taunting him, haunting him. Harry was now a ghost living in his life. A diminished candle. A wilting flower. A night without a moon.

_"I think I wouldn't mind spending forever with you too."_

Gone.

_"It's always gonna be you."_

Harry was gone.

_"You're always gonna be important to me."_

Everyday, Tom reminded himself that he could live without Harry– that maybe if he repeated those words as many times as he could, they would finally stick. He'd finally move on. He didn't need Harry, he said, he didn't need anyone, he kept telling. But he did, Tom needed him so much, could practically feel him sleeping beside him. Could still feel his fingers stroking his cheek.

Tom always hated feelings– they were finicky, meaningless, and a weakness. And yet here he was, a prisoner of his own heart.

He couldn't hold it in anymore.

_"I love you."_

He cried.

He cried so much, tears outlined his face.

_"I'm scared of losing you."_

Harry didn't lose Tom, Tom had lose Harry.

He was sixteen when Tom mourned for the first time.  
  
  


**Forever is a long, long time.**   
**But I wouldn't mind spending it**   
**By your side**

**Author's Note:**

> The ending blows and too abrupt for my liking, it not perfect but that's how I envisioned it. I also wanted to add a scene where Harry gives Tom a gift– a ring or locket and it's heavily implied it would turn to a hocrux in the future. 
> 
> Gryffindor Tom– I know, it might sound strange because he's the heir of Slytherin and yadda yadda but I love the concept too much to not add it in the story– Ripples Across The Water by duplicity is a story with that concept and it's explained well why Tom was able to go to Gryffindor and have I mentioned I love that story and this fic is heavily inspired by that? Srsly, go check it out. 
> 
> If you ask me why Harry time travelled, why his de-aged, why he has those nightmare and why can't he remember anything, I'll simply answer you with 'Shit Happens and Magic'. I'll let your imagination implore what's happening, I just listened to Can't sleep love and thought 'hey, I want to write a self-indulgent tomarry fic with a side of angst– oh oops, guess I poured too much'. 
> 
> This is my first time writing a HP, I hope I did good or at least decent.


End file.
